There is nothing in our DNA to cope with burying our children

Humans are truly amazing creatures. We create and destroy, love and hate. We show great acts of mercy and compassion and in the next breathe moments of darkness and evil. We on some levels fear death but kill and justify killing as casually at times as ordering a coffee. But humans are resilient. There is something primal that turns on in us , that ancestral fight or flight that helps us cope either well or poorly but still cope with what life throws at you. But there is one instance where our DNA never pulls out a coping tool, never helps save us from ourselves or our pain. There is nothing in our DNA that allows us to comprehend burying our child before us. It is in fact an unnatural act and makes the participants part of a club that no one wants to join, ever. From mourning mothers of black men and women killed by the system of institutionalized racism , to a nightclub in Orlando , to June 10th 2016 , parents left standing without their children is hell. I now know that because 30 days ago, the love of our life left us in a fatal car accident . He was only 19. And there is nothing that changes that fact or pain.

It is ironic that I am blogging this because right now I barely jump on and off social media, however at this time I am all out of other coping skills. Screaming is wonderful and primal but at some point your voice abandons you like hope or nice concerned people pull over to check on you. Tears now literally burn because of the amount leaving my body , my eyes are essential rubbed raw. There is no solace in sleep , if it comes and there is no drug or alcohol strong enough to stop what washes over me. I cant break stuff because I am too fatigued to clean it up .I look for him everywhere and sometimes if you hear me say " hi baby" its because I sense a presence, his presence in small things and meanings that  he , Ty and I would get. 30 days without him does not seem possible, this nightmare only started yesterday, right? I rage against never seeing his car in front of the house, him bopping through the front door again , the texts , the hugs , my son.
These 30 days have been the most soul shredding event in my lie , part of what gave me lightness and purpose is gone , I do not know how to fill it and am in awe of parents who have lived with their loss for years .

As a parent, you create family and love by memories. In grief  it dawns on you , there will be no new memories with your child. My son will not walk me down the aisle, I will never see him have his first serious relationship, marry and like his parents adopt his children. I will never be the mother of the groom, grandma or the advice he calls when he gets older. That knowledge of that loss is what can drown you in despair , it shears you in half and if not careful with it can leave you a shell of a human. when you lose a child you already become the shell of who you were.

In the past 9 months I have lost my father , my mother and my only child.  I do not know who I am anymore , why I am anymore. This has caused me a huge crisis in faith , that I believe all things are interconnected and not for us to decide but when its your child its hard to embrace. People say God never gives you more than you can handle , but I am beginning to believe his assessment of my strength and mine are very different. I get angry , a lot. Angry when I see a kid driving like they are invincible, angry when someone asks me when I will adopt again like my son is replaceable or that because I did not birth him this hurt less. I get angry because no matter what I do my kid is never coming through that front door again and the well of pain that causes s too big to hold or contain.

So for those of you also in this horrible fraternity , I don't know what to say because I am in no way at the it gets easier to cope part of the grief cycle. What I do know is what honestly keeps me here is letting my clan, my  tribe and even strangers show me love and compassion. My son at 19 was joy, he held our hands in public, he hung out with grandma and grandpa, he loved his friends and family . He started life as a child in foster care but ended surrounded by people who saw his light, who he gave his joy to freely and all of us his forever family. We love him unconditionally and in he return he loved us the same way . His service was standing room only, as  person after person stood up and shared the impact , love and compassion that was our Michael. Family the one I created either through marriage or friendship have feed us , cared for us, drove us and distracted us when we  could not do for ourselves. They held us even as they mourned our child too. It can be a text with a heart or the nice tiny older woman who holds you as you weep in a church you stopped in randomly, who prays with you and gives you her rosary. It reminds you when you think there is no light left in the world that love and light can sneak through the cracks in the wall of grief. There are times when you lose your child that you yourself no longer wish to live , it is the simple act of people holding a space for you in life that keeps you going . Hold space for your spouse and respect that everyone grieves differently , including you both as parents. Losing a child can end a marriage. Ty and I have committed to working to support each other and we do , but it can be hard when you both need different things to heal. We thank our friends who understand at times we need it to just be the two of us , to wrap our heads around being Mikes parents without him here.

Tired is no even the word , yet the description fails me. Normal routine , part time office hours, emails, paying bills , grocery shopping all of this is like new information for me . I have washed my hands with moth wash . forgot literally how to close a front hook bra, driving terrifies me, names allude me. I spent 20 minutes at the DMV and needed to nap for an hour. Because right now acting and it is an act ,like part of routine life baffles me . Because all I want to do is lay down on his bed , surrounded by his things and stay there , everything else confounds me. I want to call my mom , which is not possible or my dad and that barely healed wound tears open bleeding into this new wound as well.

For those who love us grieving parents , thank you . we may never be able to articulate what it is you do for us, how you in fact keep us connected to the world. We know we are not ok and so do you but you allow that to just be.
an I will be without him , how that remains to be seen